


Dedication

by Lash_larue



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24356641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lash_larue/pseuds/Lash_larue
Summary: Catastrophic injury makes strange bedfellows
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 46
Collections: Femmefest 2020





	Dedication

b>Title: Dedication  
**Author/Artist:** Anonymous  
**Recipient:** Maraudersaffair  
**Rating:** R  
**Pairing(s):** Hermione/Pansy  
**Summary:** Anyone worth doing...  
**Warnings:** None  
**Word Count/Art Style:** 8200  
**Author's Notes:** I enjoy writing this pairing, it is challenging to find a plausible way to bring them together. This prompt gave me a different way to approach that, thank you. This set well post-war, Hermione and Pansy are in their mid to late 30’s. My thanks to my marvelous beta, TRS. If it sucks now, it’s all mine.

Dedication

_” AVADA KEDAVRA!”_ bellowed the larger of the two wizards fleeing through the remains of the ancient church. The jet of green light flew wide of the MLE officer pursuing them. In fairness to the would-be murderer, his target was flitting through the gloom like a bat chasing midges.

“Idiot,” said his companion, “you’ll never hit her with a direct spell, she’s too damned quick! The rest of them will be here soon as well. We don’t have time for this. I think she’s behind that column to our right, let’s blast it!”

A stationary column was a much easier target than a nimble woman, and they both hit their mark. The column shattered, and the pieces of stone fell over a wide area with a thunderous crash. 

“I’ll go make sure of her.”

“Fine. Be a fool if you like, but I’m getting the hell out of here. We don’t even know if we hit her, much less whether or not she’s disabled. I’d sooner stick my hand in a nest of vipers.”

Action suited words, and he fled through the rear of the ruin. After brief consideration, his companion hurried after him.

No hexes followed them.

It was well for them that they had not investigated, for in the midst of the recent destruction, and thoroughly covered in dust, the officer lay waiting with her wand at the ready. Blood ran from her head and face where shards of falling stone had struck her, but the greater problem was the large piece of the column’s capital that had landed on her back just above her hips.

“Bugger,” she swore softly.

A short while later she heard cautious footsteps approaching from behind her, and she prepared to defend herself as best she could. The bracelet on her left wrist vibrated silently. She managed to tap it in response, and then she relaxed. A bit. The sounds grew closer, and a light from behind cast shadows in front of her.

“Found her, chief. We’re going to need medical.”

“Already sent for the mediwizards. If she hadn’t been injured, she’d have them in custody.” The leader of the team of Magical Law Enforcement officers knelt by the side of her injured colleague.

“When are you going to learn to wait for reinforcements, Parkinson?”

“I think that might have sunk in this time, chief,” she answered.

Chief Purdy examined her gently, careful not to disturb her position or the stone on her back. “Are you in much pain? I’ve a few potions in my kit that will help that.”

“It’s not too bad, the lump on my head hurts a little. Not as much as the morning after a pub night. Can’t feel my legs, though.”

“Try not to move until medical arrives.”

“No problem, chief. No problem at all.”

((())) 

“Well, Chief Purdy, I’m afraid the news isn’t good,” the healer told her.

“I was afraid of that. Let’s hear it.”

“First of all, I want to compliment your medical team. The way they handled this injury was textbook. They likely saved her life.”

“I’ll be sure they get properly acknowledged. What about my officer?”

“Officer Parkinson sustained a massive crushing injury to her spine. Even if it’s possible to repair the skeletal damage, and that is doubtful, the nerve damage is horrific. I don’t think she’ll ever walk again, frankly,” the healer said.

“I’m not ready to accept that. Has she been seen by a specialist?”

“Yes, our top man has examined her. We’ve spared no effort, I assure you. But nerve injuries are tricky, and it’s early days yet. Don’t give up hope.”

“Never crossed my mind. If anyone can beat this, it’s Parkinson. Toughest officer in the department.”

“She does have quite an exceptional musculature. The density of her muscles spared her from even worse damage. But I must caution you against hoping for too much in the way of recovery.”

“Caution all you like. You said ‘your’ best man has seen her. That implies there is someone better, does it not?”

“There are some prominent researchers in the field, yes. And a few specialists in other countries who have had some success with injuries of this sort.”

“Well, then, bring in the best of them! What are you waiting for, man?”

“I will do what I can, of course. But I cannot promise they will attend her. In any case, the Ministry Benefits Office may not authorize it.”

“You leave the bureaucratic bullshit to me. Parkinson is the finest officer I have ever served with. You wouldn’t believe what she went through to get on the force, all because she was a terrified kid who made a few bad decisions during Voldemort’s last rise to power. She was interrogated as if she were a death-eater, and she sat calmly through the whole ordeal and answered every question truthfully. Under veritaserum, not that it was needed. She is the most honorable person I know, and I would trust her with the lives of my children. She has a letter of recommendation from the Commissioner of the London Metropolitan Police. Yes, the Muggle one. She went through their academy and took top honors, but she wanted to serve the community she was raised in. She has 5 commendations for valor, and has saved more lives than you have fingers and toes. So, no. I will not give up on her. Get me the names, or contact them yourself, but get them, and take me to her...” 

“Right away, Chief Purdy. I’ll call the specialists in, and I’ll make sure they all know what you’ve just told me...”

“Merlin, Parkinson, you look like hell!”

“Good to see you, too, chief. I suppose they’ve given you the good news, right?”

“Good news?”

“I’m going to save a fortune on shoes.” 

Purdy snorted.

“Rubbish. You keep fighting, Pansy. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am. Let me know when you catch those bastards, will you?” Pansy yawned hugely. “Sorry, the potions have me a bit sleepy.”

“Get some rest. We’ll find them, never doubt it.” Purdy grasped Pansy’s hand and squeezed. She was somewhat reassured by the strength of the answering grip. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

_” We’ll find them. Purdy thought. And we’ll drag them into court by the short and curlies if we have to.”_

((())) 

“Can’t you just give me some skele-gro? I’m getting tired of lying around.”

“I’m sorry, officer, but no. The bone is too fragmented. It would grow back incorrectly and possibly cause further harm. Think of it like this. Repairing a simple break, or even a series of breaks, is like piecing together a puzzle. The pieces will fit together. There is a discernable pattern, one must just figure it out. I’m afraid, however, that in your case, even the pieces are so damaged that there is simply no pattern to figure out. We do have potions for the injured nerves, but without a strong spine they aren’t as effective. I wish I had been able to give you better news.”

“I understand. Thank you for coming all the way from Switzerland to try.”

The healer bade her farewell, and left the room.

“Well, shit,” Pansy said aloud. 

Pansy was well past depressed. She had worked very hard on her body and she was justifiably proud of her physical prowess. The prospect of not even being able to walk scared her as nothing ever had. But she was not yet prepared to give up.

Pansy’s regular healer walked with the visiting specialist on his way to the portkey.

“Thank you for coming, Healer Bollinger. I guess that’s it, then. Every specialist we’ve tried has reached the same conclusion.”

“Alas, even magic has its limitations. But, I—I hesitate to mention this, Healer Smythe, it is completely outside accepted practice, but…”

“Go ahead, please.”

“I know of someone who has been researching the combination of magical healing techniques with Muggle medicine and technology. She is a fully qualified healer, attended school here in England, then went and got a Muggle medical degree in Sweden. She conducts her research there. No idea how she abides by the Statute of Secrecy, but she does. It’s likely nonsense, in any case.”

“I’d like to contact her, nonetheless. I can’t leave a single stone unturned.”

“I see. Well then, let me write down the contact information for you. She does receive owl post.”

He wrote the information down and handed it over.

“Safe travels, and thank you again, Healer Bollinger.” Bollinger nodded, and touched the portkey.

Back in his office, Smythe finished his message and bound it to the leg of his waiting owl.

“Icarus, old friend, please speed this missive to Healer/Doctor Hermione Granger.”

((())) 

“Thank you for coming—do you prefer doctor or healer as form of address?”

“Healer will serve here. After all, when in St. Mungos…”

“Quite so. Thank you for coming so quickly, Healer Granger,” Smythe said.

“Thank you for contacting me, the details you sent were fascinating. And I am always honored to try and help someone who puts themselves at risk to help others. May I see the patient now?”

“Certainly, right this way.”

Upon arrival, Healer Smythe rapped on the door.

“Yeah, I’m still here. Come on in,” Pansy called out. Something about the voice tugged at the back of Hermione’s mind, but before she could pin it down, she was ushered into the room.

“Granger? What in the world are you doing here?”

“Healer Granger came in from Sweden to consult on your case, Officer Parkinson,” Smythe explained. “I take it that you know each other?”

“We attended Hogwarts at the same time, yes.” Hermione said.

“Old school chums, then? He asked.

“Not really, no,” Pansy replied, “different houses and all that. Actually, we kind of hated each other back then.”

“Oh. I see. I hope that’s not going to be a problem,” Smythe said.

“Hogwarts was a long time ago,” Hermione said, “I much doubt either of us is the same person we were back then. I am surprised to see that you are an MLE officer, though, Parkinson.”

“Long story. I can’t say that I’m shocked to see you’re a healer, Granger. I guess you’re here to tell me I’m screwed, like all the other experts, huh?”

“I certainly hope not. Actually, from the information Healer Smythe sent me, I believe it’s possible that you can make a substantial, if not complete, recovery.”

“Really? How come nobody else thinks so? I mean, I know you’re all kinds of smart, but doesn’t magic have limits, even for you?”

“It does, and when it comes to magical treatment for your sort of injury, Healer Bollinger is as good as they come. I, however, have been taking a different approach, combining magic and technology,” Hermione told her.

“Muggle stuff?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“No. I know more about that world than I used to. I spent some time there after the war. It changed my life,” Pansy said.

“I’d like to hear that story someday. If you’re ready, let’s get started. I need to examine you. I suppose you’re used to that by now.”

“Too bloody right I am. Help yourself.”

“Healer Granger, I have other patients to see to, would you like me to send someone in to assist you?” Smythe asked.

“Not if she can safely be levitated. She does have reinforcing spells in place, doesn’t she?”

“Certainly. Officer Parkinson is a highly decorated and valuable member of the MLE. Her chief would have my hide if I allowed any further damage to occur. Officer, if you would feel more comfortable with me here, I’ll call in someone to cover for me.”

“No need, but thanks. Granger might be an insufferable know-it-all, but she’s a damn good witch.”

“As you say. I’ll check in on you later.” Smythe left the room.

“I have never in my life seen so many cards in a hospital room, Parkinson,” Hermione said, looking around in wonder.

“I’m not as much of a bitch as I was back in school. I actually have some real friends now.”

“I can see that. Be frank, Officer Parkinson. Do you trust me to treat you?”

“Yes. One, you seem to be my last hope. Two, whatever else you were, you were never a liar. You took an oath when you became a healer. You won’t betray that.”

“I took two, in fact. One on the Muggle side. I appreciate your trust. Now let’s take a look at you.”

“You’re in for a treat, Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, pulled the sheet off and laid her hand on Pansy’s ankle.

“Your circulation is good, that’s encouraging. Do you have any feeling at all in your feet?”

“Not really, sometimes I think I do, but the other healers referred to that as phantom sensation,” Pansy said.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Let’s try this.” She took a sharp instrument and lightly poked the sole of Pansy’s foot. “Do you feel that?” 

“No.”

“This?” Hermione asked, squeezing the foot tightly.

“It reminds me of wearing a weighted training boot. I can’t exactly feel it, but…”

“Good. I’m going to move your foot around, see if you can tell what position it’s in.”

“I’m going to take a wild guess and say it’s at the end of my leg,” Pansy said.

“Spot on!” Hermione said with a chuckle. “Let’s work our way upwards. Let me know when you feel anything.”

“There. I feel something sharp by my belly button.”

“Right. I need to turn you over now. Ready?”

“Sure.” Hermione smoothly levitated and rotated Pansy. She grimaced at the extensive bruising on her back, but made no sound. The usual potions had the swelling and most of the discomfort from the bruising under control, but it would be quite some time before the discoloration really faded.

“Are you in any pain?”

“Just a headache and the phantom stuff, mostly. There’s a kind of tingly feeling once in a while, like when your foot goes to sleep.”

Pansy moved her arms so that she could rest her head on them. Hermione studied the motion, and the obvious strength.

“Healer Smythe told me that you had exceptional muscle density, but I did not expect this. I know how much effort it takes to build muscles like this. When did you start working out so hard?”

“A couple years after the war. I was depressed, drinking too much and not really doing anything. I started going to Muggle pubs so I wouldn’t run into anyone I knew. One night I went into an alley to Apparate home and I got assaulted by this guy. Couldn’t get to my wand, didn’t know how to fight him off, I figured I was really in for it. Then a man came running up and just pounded my attacker into the ground and cuffed him. He was a Muggle police officer. He called it in and had my attacker hauled off to jail, then took me to the hospital. After I got checked out, he gave me a card for this gym that gives self-defense classes. I went there and got hooked on exercise. It blasted me right out of my funk. The place was full of police officers, both men and women. Some of the nicest people I’ve ever known. They made me realize that most of what I’d been told about Muggles was a load of shit, and it made me want to contribute like they did. I almost joined up with them, but I figured that maybe I owed something to our world. That’s why I joined MLE. My friends at the gym think I’m in some kind of secret government agency, but they are going to be wondering what’s happened to me before long.”

“That’s a wonderful story, Pansy. I am very glad that you found a sense of purpose. And all that hard work will improve your chances of recovery. It also quite likely saved your life when that stone fell on you. I’ve worked with many athletes, but none of them had your physique.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m going to run my hands down your sides. I want you to tell me if it feels the same on both sides, okay?”

“Okay, but I’m ticklish.”

“I’ll use a firm touch to minimize that. Here we go…”

“It feels pretty much the same. Glad your hands are warm, though.”

“I use a warming charm. I’m sure you’re tired enough of being handled without having ice cubes rubbed on you,” Hermione said.

“Actually, that feels pretty good, Granger. You’ve got just three days to stop that.”

“Have you had any massage therapy here?”

“No.”

“The incident was just on two weeks ago, correct?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll speak to Smythe about it. Here, I’ll work on your back a little.” Hermione’s hands were both warm and skilled, and Pansy relaxed under her attentions and drifted off to sleep.

_”She’s changed, in more ways than one,”_ Hermione thought. _“I have to help this woman.”_ She drew the covers over Pansy and then sat and began making notes. She was still at it when Smythe returned with Chief Purdy.

After the introductions, Purdy got right to the point.

“Well, can you help my officer?”

“I believe so, yes,” Hermione said.

“Then what are you waiting for? Get at it!”

“It’s not so simple as that. I have to take her to my facility in Sweden to treat her. The needed equipment is not available anywhere else,” Hermione told her.

“Our health benefits won’t pay for treatment outside the country.”

“There will be no charge, Chief Purdy,” Hermione assured her. “The expenses will be covered by my research grants.”

“Research? You mean to experiment on her? Can’t say I like the sound of that at all.”

“No. The procedure is proven. There is, of course, always some risk in any medical procedure. When she wakes I will give her a detailed explanation of what is involved, and she can decide whether or not to go forward.”

“Smythe?” Purdy asked.

“It’s either this, or Officer Parkinson will just have to live with it. Healer Granger has impeccable qualifications.”

“There are spells that would enable her to move about in a limited fashion. She would be her own puppeteer, in a sense,” Hermione told them.

“She’d never go for that, I don’t think,” Purdy said.

“No, she wouldn’t,” Pansy agreed. “If there is any chance at all of being able to move on my own again, I’ll take it. I already know that Granger has magic hands. Thanks for your concern, Chief, but I didn’t build this body to watch it disintegrate. Thank you too, Healer Smythe. You went to a lot of trouble to help me. Now I would appreciate it if you left me alone with Healer Granger so I can give her the third degree without reading her rights to her.”

Smythe and Purdy took their leave of Pansy and Hermione.

“So what’s the deal, Healer Granger? I heard you say that the procedure was proven.”

“With a few caveats, yes. I have successfully repaired spinal damage as bad as yours dozens of times,” Hermione told her.

“Glad to hear it. What else?”

“I have only been able to do this on medical cadavers. It was an experimental procedure when I developed it, and human experimentation is forbidden. I was also unwilling to experiment on animals.”

“You think it will work?”

“I do. Especially for the skeletal damage. How long it will take the nerves involved to regenerate, and how fully they will, remains to be seen. Also…”

“Spit it out, Granger,” Pansy said.

“I will be violating a few regulations by doing this. Both Muggle and magical.”

“You’d take that risk for me? Why?” Pansy aske d.

“Because you need help, and yes, because I will learn things that may well help others with similar injuries by increasing my knowledge. Your strength and determination make you an ideal candidate for this procedure. And because I cannot bear to see the work you put into that body come to naught.”

“And I’m hot, right?” Pansy said with a smile.

“Oh, shut up, Parkinson,” Hermione said. But she blushed a little.

“Hell, I’ve always wanted to go to Sweden. Maybe find myself one of those gorgeous blondes they grow up there.”

“It’s a possibility. I have several of them on my staff. Of course, that doesn’t do me any good since I cannot have any sort of romantic relationship with staff or patients. That’s one rule I will never break,” Hermione said.

“Too bad. Your wonderful hands could be downright useful. So how do we get there?”

“I’ll reinforce the spells keeping your spine supported with my own variants, and secure you in a metal frame. Then we’ll take a portkey. I came up with one that’s really very smooth. We could book Muggle transport, but that’s kind of a pain these days.”

“When do we go?”

“Tomorrow, around midday here. I’ll go back to Stockholm now and get things set for your arrival.”

“Would you turn me right-side-up before you go? Your levitation is a lot better than the attendant’s.”

“Certainly.” Hermione turned Pansy and settled the covers over her. “How’s that?”

“Good, thank you,” Pansy said, and she extended her hand. Hermione took it, and Pansy added her other hand and held on firmly. “Whatever happens, thank you for giving me this chance,” Pansy said, “I really miss all that stuff below my waist.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hermione joined Smythe and Purdy in the corridor.

“Well?” Purdy asked.

“I’m on my way to get things set up for her. I’ll come and fetch her tomorrow around noon.”

“Is there anything we can do to prepare her for the trip?” Smythe asked.

“If you have a massage therapist on staff, send them to her. If you don’t, bring one in and I’ll cover the cost if her benefits won’t.”

“The team will cover that, Healer Granger. Take good care of my officer, will you?”

“I will do my very best, Chief Purdy. You may rest assured of that.” Hermione headed to the floo station.

“Is that _the_ Hermione Granger?” Purdy asked.

“One and the same, yes. I think your officer is in good hands.”

Pansy was, at that very moment, recalling just how good Hermione’s hands were.

_“One way or another, before this is over at least one of us is going to feel something below the waist. And I’ve got lots of sensitive places that still work just fine. I won’t be her patient forever.”_

((())) 

Hermione entered Pansy’s room just before noon. Both Smythe and Purdy were present and greetings were exchanged.

“Here are the transfer forms, Healer Granger. She’s your patient now.” Hermione signed the papers.

“I will keep you up to date on our progress, Healer Smythe. Thank you for having my transport cradle brought in.”

“You’re welcome. Maybe we should get some of these, it seems useful.”

“It really is. It protects the patient from impact as well as providing additional stabilization.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Pansy. “You just want to try the bondage thing with me.”

“Is she always like this, Chief Purdy?”

“Pretty much, yes. Behave yourself, Parkinson. I expect you back and ready for duty ASAP.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Hermione cast her spells, and Pansy felt like a huge pair of hands were holding her. Where she could feel it at all, that is.

“Here comes the levitation, are you ready?” Hermione asked Pansy.

“Sure. It’s not like I have to do anything about it.”

“And that is fortunate. As I recall, you were pants at levitation,” Hermione said, and she floated Pansy into the cradle. She then proceeded to fasten the straps.

“Told you she was into bondage,” Pansy said. Hermione said nothing, but their eyes met and Pansy thought she saw a little spark deep in Hermione’s.

“We’re all set,” Hermione announced.

“Where’s the portkey?” Pansy asked.

“You’re lying in it. Here we go.” Hermione grasped the cradle and invoked the portkey.

“I could use a drink,” Purdy said to Smythe.

“I’m buying,” he replied.

Hermione and Pansy arrived at their destination smoothly, and after releasing the straps, Hermione levitated Pansy into bed and removed the special immobilizing spell that she had cast for the transportation. Pansy stretched her arms up and rolled her head to loosen up her neck.

“How are you?” Hermione asked.

“A bit stiff. Thanks for having them send the masseuse yesterday. She wasn’t as good as you, but it helped. All this lying around is harder work than you might think.”

“Once we get your spine repaired, you can start exercising. Would you like me to bring in someone to work the kinks out?”

“Could you do it? Oh, I’m sorry! You’re a healer, you’ve got more important things to do.”

“Here, I’m a doctor. I have a foot in each world. Actually, you’re my only patient at the moment. This is a small clinic, that makes it easier to keep secrets. I do work at a hospital, but I’m on holiday from there. I’m just accustomed to getting a therapist for that. Sure, I’d be glad to.”

Hermione pulled the covers down and turned Pansy over.

“You really are tense,” she said as she rubbed Pansy’s shoulders and neck.

“I don’t like portkeys, although this one wasn’t so bad. I guess I’m a little scared, too.”

“Understandable. I’m not dumb enough to tell you not to worry, but I really believe things will go well. Do you want me to explain the procedure? That might help.”

“Okay.”

“The equipment here will provide a much better image of the damage than they can get at St. Mungos. The data is processed through a computer that will generate a 3d image that I can view from all angles. Have you ever heard of virtual reality?”

“Yes. One of my Muggle friends at the gym showed me this set of goggles that made it seem like I was on a roller coaster. I damn near puked. Oh, that’s the spot! Ummm…”

“Good, I can feel that knot loosening. What we do here is similar to that, but much more advanced. Conventional magical treatment for this involves using micro-levitation spells to arrange the bone fragments, then administering a form of skele-gro to solidify things. A simple bone can be re-grown, but not the spine.”

“Yeah, Bollinger said mine was too smashed-up for that.”

“Exactly so. In addition, actually moving pieces of the spine is risky. It is easy to cause further nerve damage.”

“So you don’t do it that way?” Pansy asked.

“No. Once I have the image of how things _are_ , the computer can use data from the intact portions of the spine, and generate a very accurate presentation of how things _should be_. I then use a transfiguration spell. There is very little risk of further damage, because nothing is actually being moved. It might not be exactly like it was before, but it will be extremely close and should function properly. After that, conventional therapy and potions aid the regeneration of the nerves.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Much depends on how well the transfiguration is done,” Hermione said.

“Then I do feel better, thanks. You’re as good as McGonagall at that. You know, if the whole doctor thing doesn’t work out for you, you should open a spa.”

“Thanks. I’ll think about it. I’m going to work on your legs now. You may not feel it, but the stimulation will be good for them.” Hermione kneaded Pansy’s legs, amazed at the muscles there. “I would kill to have legs like these. They’re spectacular.”

“Thanks. You can’t get them by killing, though. Takes work. I’ll tell you what, Granger. You fix me up and I’ll help you train. Deal?”

“Deal. How do you feel now?”

“Much better. Do my front now, please.” Hermione hesitated briefly, but the request was valid and she turned Pansy onto her back. Pansy untied the gown and pulled it off. Hermione took a hand and stretched Pansy’s arm before moving up towards her shoulder. “So, when are we gonna do it?” Pansy asked.

“Huh?” Hermione blurted, and she blushed fiercely.

_” Point to Parkinson!”_ Pansy thought. “My back. When are you going to fix it?”

“Oh. Yes. In the morning. You’ll be asleep. You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Hermione moved on to Pansy’s chest.

“Well, I sure feel something now…” Hermione swallowed. Pansy’s breathing deepened, and she sighed.

“I’ll just get your other arm and then finish up with your neck,” Hermione said.

Standing behind her, Hermione put gentle traction on Pansy’s neck. She felt the tension flowing out of her.

“Dr. Granger?” Pansy said softly.

“Yes?”

“Thanks, I needed that.”

Hermione covered Pansy after she had fallen asleep, and then went to her office. In the bathroom, she washed her hands and face and stared into the mirror for a long moment. Then she wrote the orders for Pansy’s care and settled in with her notes for the next morning’s procedure.

She may have worked even harder than usual.

“Isn’t it kind of early for dinner?” Pansy asked the woman who had wheeled in the covered tray.

“Doctor’s orders. We’re taking you in early in the morning, so if you’re going to eat today, it’s now or never.”

“Oh. Let’s have it, then. It smells better than the hospital food back home, at least.”

“We don’t have a real kitchen here. This is from a local restaurant. I’m Inger, by the way.”

“Pansy. I see that what I heard about Swedish women is true. You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks. Doctor Granger told me you were looking for a blonde for your collection. I’m already taken.”

“That’s too bad. Are you sure you don’t want to trade up?”

“Stop harassing my staff, Parkinson,” Hermione said upon entering the room.

“A girl can dream, right? Thanks for the dinner, Inger. It’s really good.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night, Doctor Granger.”

“Good night, Inger.” Inger left, and Hermione turned to Pansy. “How are you? I’ve got some dreamless sleep potion if you need it.”

“I’m okay. That massage really relaxed me, thanks again.”

“I was happy to do it,” Hermione said.

“I sure hope so. I’d hate for you to stop. Here, I’ve got a paper for you,” Pansy said. 

“What’s it about?”

“I wrote up a consent form. Just in case you get mired in some sort of legal bullshit. I can’t have you getting any grief from this.”

“That was considerate of you. I wasn’t going to bother with the form since I’m not really supposed to be doing this anyway,” Hermione said.

“Never monkey with the law. And if you do, be sure and cover your ass. That is my professional advice.”

“Duly noted. Do you want the dreamless sleep potion?”

“Not the dreamless kind, no. I have something I’m really hoping to dream about tonight.”

“I’ll have some sleeping potion brought to you. Goodnight, Parkinson.”

“Goodnight, Granger. And thanks again.”

Back in her office, Hermione read over the paper Pansy had given her.

_I, MLE Officer First Class Pansy Parkinson, do hereby give my consent to any procedure that Doctor Hermione Granger deems needed._

_She may do anything she wants. Anything at all._

((())) 

The sun had not yet appeared when they carried Pansy to the imaging suite and began. CT scan for the bones, an MRI for the soft tissue, and then the computer digested the data. Hermione waited impatiently for the results, and when it was done, she connected her VR headset and looked.

What she saw was encouraging. The skeletal damage was indeed severe, but there was no evidence that any fragments had migrated since the injury. There was evident inflammation of the soft tissues, but the spinal chord had not been severed.

She removed the headset and carefully immobilized Pansy in a sort of exoskeleton that would hold her securely even without the spells she also employed. She wondered what Pansy would say about this level of bondage.

“I’m ready, Inger. Fire it up,” Hermione said, and she put the headset back on. In a few minutes, the computer-generated image of what Pansy’s lumbar spine was supposed to look like appeared. Hermione concentrated fiercely on it, bending every effort to blank out any memory of the damage. It took a while, but then she was ready, and she cast the spell.

Hermione slumped in exhaustion, and her other tech, Elvira, gently removed the headset. Meanwhile, Inger moved Pansy back into the CT scanner. An image appeared on the monitor, and Elvira gently nudged Hermione.

“Doctor Granger,” she said, “it’s perfect.”

Hermione looked. It was indeed perfect. They shared a group hug before they returned Pansy to her room. Hermione settled in to wait for Pansy to wake up.

“When do we start?” Pansy said.

“Five hours ago,” Hermione told her. “We’re done.”

“Really? So...”

“It went beautifully. We’ll do more imaging over the next few days, but your spine is now intact and as strong as ever, Officer Parkinson. I’ve already removed the supporting spells. You’re free to move in any way that you are able to. Try not to fall and break something, please.”

“Really?”

“Really. Do you mind if I check you out a bit?”

“Oh, please do,” Pansy said. 

Pansy was giddy, she had scarcely dared to hope, but now...

“Hey, that hurt!” Pansy exclaimed. _” That HURT!”_ she screamed, as tears flooded her face.

“I might have gotten a little carried away,” Hermione admitted as she swabbed the blood from the bottom of Pansy’s foot, but she was crying too. “You should know that you are almost certainly going to have odd sensations as the nerves regenerate and the swelling and inflammation recede. Perhaps even involuntary movements. They may be unpleasant, even painful, but they are a positive sign. They are proof that the nerves are still active. Try and move a foot, or a toe, or whatever you can.”

Pansy scowled in effort, like she was doing a 200-kilo leg press.

Her right foot moved. Not much, but it moved.

Hermione, Inger, and Elvira cheered.

“Now the hard work starts,” Hermione said.

“I’m ready for that,” Pansy said.

“I know you are,” said Hermione. “Here, this potion is for the nerve damage. We’ll start the physical therapy tomorrow. Even if you don’t need rest now, I do. Frankly, I’m exhausted. Thrilled, mind you, but exhausted.”

“I guess asking you for another rubdown would just be inconsiderate, then,” Pansy said, smiling. “How can I ever thank you, Doctor Granger?” 

“Recover. I need to let Healer Smythe and your boss know that things went well. Do you have any message for either of them?”

“Thank Smythe for his help, and tell the chief I’ll see her soon,” Pansy said. “Go get some sleep. Pleasant dreams, Granger.”

Hermione departed. Pansy lay there, fascinated and delighted by every little sensation, even the ones that were painful. Pain was an old friend to her. The horrible numbness, the _nothing,_ had been almost more than she could bear.

She knew that her Muggle friends, the men and women that had so nearly been colleagues, the people who had inspired her to seek a career in law enforcement, would soon begin to really worry. Having people that truly cared about her was a relatively new experience for her.

Their concern for her gave her something to hold on to.

Her concern for them gave her something to worry about. 

The memory of Hermione’s hands on her body gave her something to fantasize over.

And the thoughts of what she wanted to experience with Hermione gave her something to look forward to.

“Are you hungry?” Inger asked as she entered the room.

“Starving,” Pansy answered.

“Anything special you want to eat?”

_”You bet your arse there is,”_ Pansy thought. “Whatever’s easiest, Inger. Thank you.”

Hermione Apparated directly to her bedroom, undressed, and went to take a shower. Standing under the hot water, she tried to let the tension flow away. She had confidence in her abilities, but she had been terrified that things would go amiss. If they had, despite the generous waiver that Pansy had given her, she would have been in serious trouble. The ending of her career might well have been the least consequence. And she would have failed a patient who had trusted her. 

She couldn’t kid herself that Pansy had truly understood the risks involved, although she had tried to explain them as best she could. But she believed to a certainty that had Pansy owned an understanding equal to her own that she would have made the same choice. 

After finishing her initial examination of Pansy, she had asked Ron Weasley to look into what Pansy had done in the years since the war ended. Ron was quite high up in the Auror’s office, and he and Hermione were good friends. It turned out that he was already familiar with Pansy’s history, having investigated her when she applied to the MLE academy.

“She’s the real deal,” Ron had told Hermione. “Help her if you can, please.”

So she took the chance, and it had worked. Better than she had dared hope; at least so far it had.

She emerged from the shower and dried herself off. She ate a piece of cold, leftover pizza washed down with a large glass of locally produced pinot and a solid shot of Absolut.

She went to bed and dreamed of the feeling of Pansy’s body under her hands.

((())) 

“Sleep well?” Hermione greeted Pansy.

“Not really, but I don’t give a damn. Watch this,” Pansy said.

There was a rail running lengthwise over Pansy’s bed with a handle dangling from it. Pansy threw off her covers, grasped the handle with one hand, and with the help of the other, shifted herself into a seated position. 

She slowly extended her left leg and wiggled her big toe.

“That’s wonderful! I didn’t expect that much voluntary motion this soon,” Hermione said. 

“I couldn’t sleep last night because it felt like fireworks were going off in my pants. All night long. Not that I’m wearing pants.”

Pansy looked down.

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“Hospital gowns were not designed for modesty, don’t worry about it. Besides, looking at you isn’t exactly painful,” Hermione said.

“I’m hot, right?” Pansy said with a grin.

“You do keep telling me that. I don’t suppose you’ve tried standing?”

“Well, yeah. Good thing Elvira was within earshot. I didn’t break anything, though, I still had hold of the bed.”

“This is wonderful, Parkinson. My physical therapist comes in at eight. That gives you time for breakfast, and then Elvira will help you put on some gym clothes to protect the modesty you don’t have. I’ll sit in on your first session, but Andreas is a marvelous therapist. You’ll be in good hands with him,” Hermione said.

“Not as good as yours, I’ll bet.” Hermione smiled at her.

“I’ll make you an offer, Officer Parkinson. You work hard in therapy, and I’ll give you a massage. After you have a bath.”

“You have a deal, Doctor Granger.”

Elvira arrived with the breakfast tray, and Hermione went to update her notes on Pansy’s progress and input the information that Andreas would need to plan the therapy. She returned to Pansy’s room to find her dressed and sitting in a wheelchair.

“I thought you’d just levitate me around,” Pansy said.

“I’m not even going to push the chair. The more you do by yourself, without magic, the better. The physical therapy will not involve any magic either. After Andreas is done, you’ll be able to exercise on your own for a while, as best you can with the equipment there.”

“Thanks, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Follow me, then,” Hermione said.

Pansy actually enjoyed propelling the chair, she felt a bit of independence and it was good to use her muscles.

Hermione kept a close eye on Pansy during the session, and was further encouraged by what she observed. Pansy was delighted to be able to exercise again, and took full advantage of the available equipment.

“I have never seen a patient work so hard, Doctor Granger,” Andreas said as they watched Pansy. “Should I tell her to ease up a little?”

“No. She knows what she’s doing. Leave her to it, just keep an eye on her.”

“Of course, Doctor. She’s obviously very fit. This must be terribly frustrating for her.”

“Yes, it is. We’ll do what we can for her, but it’s mostly up to her, now,” Hermione said.

“I wouldn’t bet against her,” he said.

“Nor I.”

Pansy returned the dumbbells to the rack, and wheeled herself over to Hermione and Andreas.

“Thank you, Andreas. I appreciate your help, and it sure felt good to be able to work out a little.”

“You are most welcome, Officer Parkinson. I wish every patient had your attitude.”

“You never thought you’d hear that about my attitude, did you, Granger?”

“Not for the least part of a second. Hit the call button when you get back to your room and either Inger or Elvira will help you wash up. I’ll be in to check on you when you’re done. We’ve made a very good start, Parkinson. I’m encouraged.”

“Me too. I’ll see you later.” 

Hermione entered Pansy’s room and found her lying face down on the bed covered by a sheet.

“How are you feeling, Pansy?”

“Tired and a little sore, but the good kind.”

“Ready for your massage, then?” Hermione asked her.

“Yes, ma’am!”

Hermione pulled the sheet off and got right down to business.

“I’ll use a potion I created, this time. It’s good for your skin, and will also aid the nerve healing and ease the soreness. It might tingle a little bit.”

“I sure hope so,” Pansy said.

Hermione started on her shoulders, and Pansy sighed in pleasure.

“I swear, it was worth getting crushed just for this,” Pansy moaned.

“I’m glad you like it. Are you warm enough?”

“Getting warmer by the second,” Pansy said.

“Parkinson...”

“Relax, Doctor Granger, I know the rules. But this really does feel great.”

Hermione continued down Pansy’s back, and she had to agree that it did feel pretty great, but she kept the thought to herself. Pansy sighed heavily when Hermione reached the powerful glutes and thighs.

“Can you feel that?” she asked.

“Kind of. It’s a sort of loosening sensation. I can’t really feel your fingers, but something is going on,” Pansy answered.

“I can see fasciculations, your nerves are responding. This is great, Pansy.”

“Yes, it really is.”

“I’m going to bend your left leg at the knee. Try and resist me,” Hermione instructed.

“Suppose I don’t want to resist you? Sorry!” Pansy said before Hermione could protest. “It’s just a reflex, I’m kind of a flirt.”

“I’ll forgive you this time. Okay, here goes. Try and keep your leg straight.”

Hermione was able to bend the leg, but she did feel some resistance.

“Well done, Parkinson. Do you need help turning over?”

“We’ll find out, I guess.”

Using her arms, Pansy was able to roll her upper body easily, and Hermione finished moving her legs for her. She resumed the massage with Pansy’s feet.

Pansy watched the progress of Hermione’s hands, trying to see if she could tie what she saw with whatever she might feel. 

“I can really feel your fingers there,” she said when Hermione reached her hipbones.

“That’s good news,” Hermione said as she moved upwards. 

Pansy could not completely suppress the sound she made when Hermione reached her chest, but Hermione gave no sign that she had noticed anything and Pansy refrained from flirting. Those muscles really were a little sore. Hermione finished and drew the sheet back over Pansy.

“You’re making splendid progress, Parkinson. Keep it up and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

_”Pity,”_ thought Pansy. “Great!” she said. 

The next week brought remarkable progress. Hermione’s new potions were extremely effective, and Pansy could now stand unaided and walk with a cane. Her strength was returning rapidly, and more than once, Andreas had gone bug-eyed watching her on the leg machine...

“That is all the resistance this machine can provide, Officer Parkinson,” he said. “This is 100 kilograms, have you ever done a single leg extension with this much before?”

“The machine I use at my gym doesn’t have the slight mechanical advantage that this one does, but yes. I’ve done 10 repetitions with 130 kilos there.”

“I do not think there is anything more that I can do for you, officer,” he said.

“You’ve done more than enough, Andreas. Thank you for all your help,” Pansy told him. “The next time a building falls on me, I’ll know who to call.”

((())) 

“All right, Officer Parkinson, let’s see you walk that line,” Hermione said.

“Yes ma’am, Doctor Granger ma’am!”

Pansy proceeded to execute a flawless heel-to-toe navigation of the line.

“Touch your toes,” Hermione demanded.”

“With what?”

“Your ear, then, smartarse,” Hermione replied.

Pansy lifted a foot, and with the aid of her arms touched the toes to her ear.

“Congratulations, Officer Parkinson. I hereby pronounce you fit for duty.”

“Really?”

“Really. Here is your release form. I’m sure that Chief Purdy will want you to get checked out back home, but trust me. If you can meet my standards, you will obliterate theirs.”

“So, I’m no longer your patient?” Pansy asked.

“In some sense, you will always be my patient. But yes, you are no longer under my direct care,” Hermione answered.

“I see. So, may I ask you some things, just woman-to-woman?”

“Of course. I can always refuse to answer,” Hermione said with a grin.

“You were at all times professional and correct with me, but I did get the impression that you are at least somewhat physically attracted to me. Am I wrong about that?” Pansy asked.

“No. You are not wrong, Officer Parkinson. I am extremely attracted to you,” Hermione answered.

“The feeling is mutual. Now... I also got the impression that your kink might run a little in the direction of bondage. Am I wrong about that?”

“No. You are not wrong about that either, Officer Parkinson,” Hermione said.

“Well then, Hermione, as I do have a major nerve center that you haven’t properly examined yet, is there any reason that we cannot go someplace and explore these things?”

“Not a single one that I can think of, Pansy...”

“Oh, Pansy! What—how... ohgod...”

There was a soft kind of “pop” noise, and Pansy’s hands pulled Hermione firmly to her face. For a moment the only sound was Hermione struggling for breath and a wet sound from between her legs.

“The tongue is a muscle too, Hermione. And you need stronger ropes,” Pansy gasped. 

“Please don’t stop,” Hermione said as she tangled her fingers in Pansy’s hair.

“I’m just getting started. I’ve been dreaming about this, and I mean to do you justice.”

“Just as long as you keep on doing me,” Hermione panted.

“What about me?”

“Believe me, Pansy. Your times are coming.”

((())) 

“What is this, really?” Hermione asked from the firm pillow of Pansy’s breasts. “What does whatever this is that we have together mean?”

“It means that we have each gained something. We helped each other. I got my legs back, and you got validation for your potions and procedures. You needed my strength and determination, and I needed your skill and knowledge,” Pansy said quietly while stroking Hermione’s hair.

“Maybe I’m mostly muscle,” Pansy continued. “Maybe you’re mostly brains. But what brought us together in whatever this is that we have together, is our dedication. Both of us are willing to risk everything we have, everything we are, for what we believe in. Both of us want to make a difference.”

“Sure, I care for you, Hermione. And I know that you care for me. We aren’t in love, but we respect each other. We believe in each other. That’s a stronger bond than romance.  
Neither of us holds anything back, ever. Not in our work. Not when we share our bodies. Nothing is off limits between us. Not now. Not ever again. Does that make sense to you?”

“It does, Pansy. Very well put,” Hermione said into the hollow of Pansy’s neck as they lay entwined together. “We don’t need to pretend, not even a little. It’s exciting, and liberating.”

“And I’m hot, right?” Pansy queried.

“Must you waste that marvelous muscle on talking?”

FIN 


End file.
